


I Do

by a_single_drop_of_ink



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason and Roy are married finally, M/M, Not exactly cannon compliant, at least Batman apologizes, but life sucks and of course Roy dies, haven't actually read the comics, oh did I mention PTSD flashbacks, sorry about that, stupid dreams, stupid hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_single_drop_of_ink/pseuds/a_single_drop_of_ink
Summary: Soft organ music swelled as heads turned to watch the figure walking through the sanctuary doors.Damn. Roy warned Jason that he looked good in a tux, but now that he finally got to see him... Well, good was a major understatement.But that was a train of thought he would have to explore later that night. Preferably with his new husband.Jason shot upright, his blanket tumbling from his shoulders to pool around his waist.This was no wedding. This was...He had no idea where this was.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	I Do

**Author's Note:**

> Hehe, first ever published fanfic, please go easy on me!  
> I hope you enjoy!

Soft organ music swelled as heads turned to watch the figure walking through the sanctuary doors. 

Damn. Roy warned Jason that he looked good in a tux, but now that he finally got to see him... Well, good was a major understatement. 

But that was a train of thought he would have to explore later that night. Preferably with his new husband. 

For that moment, all he could do was stare helplessly into the eyes of his beloved as he came to stand before him. The priest stood beside the pair, and Jason knew he should be listening. He knew he should be hearing the vows he and his soon-to-be-husband would soon make. 

But he didn't listen. 

It didn't matter what the vows were, what they had to pledge to one another. He'd already given his heart and with it, an eternal oath of love and protection. No one would harm his Roy and escape unscathed. 

The sound of his name wrenched his attention away from his inner thoughts. 

"Jason Todd. Do you take Roy Harper to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And Roy Harper. Do you take Jason Todd to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Then by the powers vested in me by God and the state and with these people as witness, I now declare you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom."

Cheers burst from the congregation as they leaned forward in anticipation. 

But Jason was not one to give them the satisfaction of a quick kiss. 

He smirked at the man standing before him. His husband. The words sat heavy on his tongue, disbelief sealing his lips shut. 

He couldn't belief that this was real. That he was here. Married. To the man of his dreams. 

He reached out and brushed a knuckle against Roy's cheekbone. 

Roy leaned into his touch, bringing his own hands up to cup Jason's face. 

Jason smiled, all doubts and worries vanishing with the grounding feeling of Roy's touch.  
This was his new reality. 

And he would be damned if he didn't enjoy every moment of it. 

He pressed his forehead against Roy's. 

"My husband," he murmured, then leaned forward to kiss his Roy.

Only for his face to collide with a cold damp cloth. 

Jason shot upright, his blanket tumbling from his shoulders to pool around his waist. 

This was no wedding. This was...

He had no idea where this was.

"Roy?" He frantically scanned the darkened room, eyes alighting on the suspiciously empty bed beside him. 

His hand darted to the bedside table to turn on the lamp, but aside from illuminating the unfamiliar room he was in, it did nothing to shed light on the situation. 

"Roy?" He shoved the blankets off of his legs and stood, still searching the room. No bags. No suitcases. Just him an an empty room that began to look more and more like a motel room the longer he observed it. 

"Roy?" Panic entered his voice as he charged into the room beside him. Empty. 

"Roy?" He flew into the tiny kitchenette, not there. He ran to the bathroom, no one. He sprinted to the closet, but he still was no where to be found. 

Beside the bed sat a pile of dark cloth, so as he returned to the bedroom, hands shaking, knees weak, he lifted it. 

His suit. 

His mask. 

The Red Hood was here.

But where was his Arsenal. 

He ran a hand over the gun in his belt. Roy had given him that for their first anniversary. 

Wait. 

Anniversary?

That's right. They were married. They had been for over a year.  
Jason smiled and lifted his left hand so the lamplight caught the small band wrapped around his ring finger. 

Wait. Small bands. 

There were two of them. 

Why was he wearing Roy's ring?

As if he had pulled the pin from a grenade, memories exploded in his brain. 

_An arrow._

_A gunshot._

_Falling._

_Glass shards spinning past his face._

_Chaos reigning around him, shots echoing past his ears, the building shaking with each hit, sending dust and stone raining down on him._

_Screaming._

_Sobbing._

_Sounds fading away, leaving him alone with only a sharp ringing in his ears._

_Crawling._

_Digging his nails into the cement, pulling himself forward inch by agonizing inch._

_His side gapes open, blood smearing across the floor, the edges of his wound stretching and pulling with each new movement._

_He slides forward, but something snags the edge of his wound, burying itself in the raw flesh._

_He doesn't stop._

_His hand reaches out and pulls him forward._

_He ignores the tearing flesh and the spike of red-hot pain._

_He has to reach him._

_Minutes crawl by as slowly as he moves._

_Even the falling debris slow._

_He reaches his side._

_Grabs his hand._

_"Roy..." he wheezes._

_There is no reply._

_Above him, something snaps._

_"Roy," he says again. Louder. Stronger._

_Still nothing._

_He reaches for the face of the man he loves._

_Of the only man he's ever loved._

_Something cracks again, this time joined by an ominous groan._

_"Roy!" His sob is torn from his chest as something crashes onto the body before him. There is a squelch and blood begins to ooze from beneath the dark thing._

_The hand still held in his grasp falls away from its owner, the wrist mangled and flattened, bone and muscle pulverized into a pulpy red mush._

_No._

_No._

Jason sank to the floor beside the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest, the rings held in his white knuckled grasp. 

No.

He jabbed his other hand into his hair, fingers knotting around the long locks, burying themselves as deep as they could. 

They pulled at the hair, desperately scrabbling at the scalp, feverishly tearing out clump after clump, nails clawing at his flesh, pulling out chunk after chunk. 

He focused on the pain. 

He could do pain. 

He could do torture. 

He could even do death. 

But not when it was Roy. 

Not his Roy.

He trusted Roy. 

He gave his heart away and believed that Roy would keep it safe. 

Would keep himself safe. 

But now Roy had betrayed him. Had gone and died, leaving him alone in a motel room with a gaping hole in his chest and a useless pair of rings. 

No.

This was not right. 

That was not fair.

"Roy's dead." The words sat heavy in his tongue, disbelief sealing his mouth shut. 

He could not say it. 

He could not give it life.

He would not give such a bitter truth the life his Roy no longer had. 

The rings glittered in the lamplight, his hand having dropped them in order to join the other in tearing at his head. 

They sat side by side; a pair of golden eyes staring accusingly up at him. 

They dared him to say it. 

They taunted him, laughing and cackling at his pain, needling him into saying it. 

He couldn't say it. 

So he did the one thing he never thought he would do again. 

His hand, fingertips now coated in blood, reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. 

Red smeared across the screen as he typed in a number he swore he'd never call. 

He's surprised he even remembers it after so long.

He held the phone to his ear and waited, his breath held tightly in his chest, as if the physical pain of not breathing would fill the gaping hole. 

The phone rang. 

It rang and it rang, the rings echoing across the silent room. 

Then it clicked. 

And a deep, rasping voice answered. "Hello?"

A mixture of fear, anger, and sorrow rose up his throat like bile, choking the words right out of him. 

The voice repeated himself. "Hello?"

"B-B." Jason managed to spit out. It wasn't much, but he couldn't manage more. 

It did, however, seem to be enough. 

"Jason," Bruce greeted, his tone as unreadable as ever. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

A bitter laugh pushed past the lips Jason had pressed tightly together, the sound followed by a wave of nostalgia. It had been years since he'd heard his voice.

He inhaled through his nose, swallowed, and tried to speak. 

"Ro... Roy." His chest heaved for air as if he had just run a marathon. He had to continue. "Roy... Is, he's—" a sob cut him off. 

He couldn't say it. 

"Dead," Bruce finished for him, his voice suddenly softening. "I know, little wing. I know. Just stay right where you are for me, okay? I'll be there in just a moment—"

"Wait!" The word was shouted into the phone, far stronger and louder than anything he'd managed to spit out before. 

"Jason, this has happened before. I'm not going to hurt you. We talked about that night on the roof and we've moved past it. I won't..." Bruce's voice was the one to crack and fail this time. "I can't hurt you like that again."

Jason couldn't say anything to that. He didn't know what to say. 

Bruce sighed, an unspoken "goodbye" on his breath, and in an instant the fear was back. 

"Please," Jason breathed, barely audible. "Please don't hang up. Please don't leave me."

"Little wing, I am never leaving you again."


End file.
